White Dryas
by Schistosoma
Summary: AU. Iceland is, and has been since he was born, ill. He relies of his elder brother, the latter's fiancé and his nanny to care for him.  One day, his condition gets worse, and as a result, he is forced to watch his family fall apart.
1. Chapter 1

**Things to take note of:**___No 'main' pairing, as this is not a shipping fic, background Denmark/Norway, will be at least two character deaths, will have approximately 7-ish chapters. I hope I can leave you crying or at least very sad by the end of this fic._

**CHAPTER ONE: LIFE BEFORE**

Iceland woke with that dry feeling in his mouth.

"Nor…" He managed to cough out, calling for his elder brother. The room was dark, but upon glancing at the clock, Iceland concluded someone should have come to wake him twenty minutes ago. The boy struggled to sit up, but lost his strength each time, collapsing back into his covers.

"Nor!" He yelled, but his voice came out barely a whisper. He tried to catch his breath, but he couldn't seem to swallow right.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Norway walked in, fully dressed in his work suit, complete with his favorite midnight blue tie.

"Water." Iceland demanded, choking on his words. His brother didn't respond, but instead propped him up into a sitting position. Carefully, the older man placed a hand on Iceland's forehead.

"Danmark!" He yelled, and as if on command, the cocky Danish man appeared in the doorway, wearing nothing but red-and-white boxers.

"What's up?" He asked, lightly ruffling Iceland's hair. The silverette flinched. "Woah, he's burning up."

Norway nodded, and turned to the bathroom in order to prepare the ice bath. Meanwhile, Denmark hoisted Iceland over his shoulder.

"C'mon, little guy." The Dane teased.

"Disgusting." Iceland said, his nose pressed against Denmark's shoulder. "You smell like sex."

Denmark walked into the bathroom with Norway's younger brother in his arms. "Morning sex is great isn't it, Nor?" He sang, smiling smugly at his fiancé. Norway frowned and glared at him.

Iceland felt appalled that his brother would rather have sex with Denmark than attend to him on time.

"The bath is ready." Norway said, testing the water with his hand.

"You ready?" Denmark asked the boy he was carrying. Iceland nodded, and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the temperature change.

He'd scream if he was strong enough to.

Instead, he quivered and squirmed about.

"N-Nor." Iceland shivered. In response, his brother took the smaller boy's pale hand and squeezed it firmly.

"You staying with him today?" Denmark asked, squatting down next to Norway. The Norwegian shook his head.

"I'll get fired if I miss another day this month." He mumbled.

"I'll call Ivan." The Dane said, leaving the room. Ivan Braginski was Iceland's medical attendant, or as Denmark liked to call it, his "nanny", who watched over Iceland when nobody else was available to care for him, as often was the case.

Iceland wanted to call after him. _Then you stay with me! _He wanted to yell. But he was already pathetic enough, reduced to a shaking mess. The boy had pride, and he wasn't going to lower himself to_ that_ level.

After fifteen minutes in the bath, Denmark pulled him out, his pajamas clinging to his wet skin. Iceland clung to the blonde's neck. He was then once again carried to his room, where Norway helped him change in to a fresh pair of sleepwear.

"See ya, Ice." Denmark said, lightly patting the boy's head before he left the house, now dressed in a suit of his own. Norway gave his fiancé a light kiss.

"I have to go as well." Norway told his brother, before he disappeared out the door.

_I'm such a hindrance. _Iceland thought, shifting in bed. _I'm eighteen years old and can barely walk on my own. _

Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang and the clack of keys could be heard. was here.

Mr. Ivan Branginski was tall and a tad too scary-looking to be nurse. His hair wasn't cut short enough, and his chilling smile and piercing eyes would have suited him better if he had become a mafia boss or a politician.

The man entered Iceland's room.

"I have your breakfast, da?" He said, his heavy accent seeping through his words. The Russian placed the tray lightly on Iceland's bed. Ivan sat himself on a nearby chair. Faintly, the pale boy lifted the fork to his mouth. The food, as always, was terrible. His diet consisted mostly of mashed up vegetables, except for the many he was allergic to, and various other soft foods.

After breakfast, he was carried to the balcony, to get some fresh air and observe the passerby, to dream that he too could leave the apartment.

After that came lunch, and medication. always offered to read him a story around this time, but Iceland usually refused. Later, he was forced to do some light leg exercises, so that the muscles on his legs wouldn't deteriorate from lack of use.

A bit after dinner, Denmark would come home and the "nanny" would leave. That was the average day.

"You better, Ice?" The rowdy man asked, sitting on the side of his bed.

"Go away." Iceland spat, though he appreciated the Dane's presence.

Norway arrived later than usual.

"Hey, darling." Iceland heard Denmark say from his bedroom. "Had to work late?"

The Norwegian sighed. "I had to make up for being late this morning."

They both worked hard, to be able to afford Iceland's expensive medication and treatment procedures. Iceland sighed.

_Sorry. _He thought.

That night, they all sat down on the couch to watch a TV Special about Puffins. Iceland sat squeezed between the two other men and complained about it, though he secretly enjoyed feeling their warmth. Sometimes, Denmark would lean over to kiss his lover, and Iceland would pretend cringe and duck.

Iceland's illness was terminal, and all of them knew that.

But at moments like this, they almost seemed to forget.

**A/N: **Since Iceland has a constant cold/illness in the canon, I decided to take it a couple steps further. Presenting…Sickly!Iceland. And once again, Russia. He's kept creeping into every single one of my APH fics! Damn, I love that guy.

(I hope the story won't be ruined by my simple and immature writing style.)

Please tell me what you thought of this! :D


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO:**

Norway and Denmark wed on a warm spring day, in a park a block away from their apartment. Norway didn't want a ceremonial wedding ("sign the papers and get over with it." He had said), but Denmark insisted upon it. Nonetheless, it was a small and humble wedding; they had only invited their closest friends and family, amounting to about twenty-five guests in all.

The pair stood in the gazebo and kissed, maybe a bit more passionately than they should have at a wedding. The audience cheered, and Iceland would have softly clapped if he hadn't been feeling so faint. He was overjoyed, though, finally having escaped the stuffy air of his apartment, and now situated in the front row in an outdated model of a wheelchair.

"Norway! Denmark!" Tino called from besides him. "Good Luck!"

Tino's husband, and Denmark's half-brother, Berwald, nodded politely as they passed him. Denmark smiled wide and winked at him.

"Nor! Den!" Iceland called weakly. Norway slowly kneeled down to speak to him at his eye level.

"C-Congratulations." Iceland said, leaning forward. He looked away and blushed. "I think that-"he began before blood spurted violently out of his nose, across Norway's suit. The young boy moaned painfully and gripped his stomach. Suddenly, Iceland keeled over and fell out of the wheelchair.

"Ice!" The newlywed yelled. Denmark turned his head in response to his lover's voice, and then quickly ran over to his side. Norway barked for someone to call 911. Denmark held young Iceland close in an attempt to calm the violent tremors going through the boy's body, praying that he wouldn't drown in his own blood. The guests stood around nervously, and Tino covered his son's eyes. The shrill wail of an ambulance could be heard in the distance.

After what seemed like an eternity of unconsciousness, Iceland opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the immaculate whiteness.

_The hospital. _He thought. A familiar scene for him. After all, he had spent the majority of his childhood here.

"Finally." He heard Norway's voice grumble. Slowly, the boy turned his head to see his brother sitting on the other side of the room. Denmark had just handed him a cup of coffee. The Dane was still wearing his wedding suit, complete with the red tie, though now it was hanging sloppily around his neck. Norway had kept his elegant pants, but changed into a deep red shirt with some Norwegian heavy metal band's logo on it.

"Hey!" Denmark shouted. Iceland cringed. "Ice is awake!"

Norway rushed over to his side. "Brother." He said, his eyes still flat and expressionless.

"Nor." Iceland said, attempting to move an arm to touch his face, only to find that he could barely move it an inch.

"You should call me 'Brother' sometime." Norway commanded him. Denmark put a hand on the Norwegian's shoulder, and Iceland caught a glint of their matching rings.

_I ruined their wedding. _Iceland thought, turning his head away in shame.

Just then, Norway blurred. His face twisted unnaturally, as if Iceland was looking through a kaleidoscope. The silver haired boy gasped and blinked repetitively, trying to stabilize the image.

"Ice. What's wrong?" Denmark asked, leaning in closer. "Your eyes are spazzing out."

"I-I can't see right." Iceland wheezed.

An hour later, Iceland was still lying in the hospital bed, but this time, he had a cream colored tape over his eyes, imitating eye patches. He couldn't see anything. Only darkness.

"Nor." He squealed, fear washing over him. "Where are you?"

"Here." Norway's voice said, and a familiar hand slipped into his.

"I'm scared." Iceland moaned, and bit his lip. "…Brother." He whispered.

Norway wished Ice could see him smile.

"They say he's got to stay overnight, until they decide what to do." Denmark declared, walking through the doorway. Norway nodded, and that night the newlyweds stayed at the hospital. There were two rigid, plastic chairs lined up against the wall. The Dane sat sideways on the one backed into a corner, and Norway sat on his lap, pressed against his chest, his legs tucked into the adjacent chair.

_So much for our first night together as a married couple. _Denmark thought sarcastically.

"Den." The Norwegian whispered, long after Iceland had drifted off into a troubled sleep. "Sorry it turned out like this. You wanted a perfect wedding."

Gently, Denmark captured his lips. Norway gave him a glimpse of one of his rare smiles.

"Love ya, Nor." The Dane said.

"Me too." The Norwegian mumbled, closing his eyes and burying his face in Denmark's chest. The newlyweds went to asleep dreaming of the wedding reception the never had, the touches that would have been shared afterwards, and the next morning when they'd wake up in each other's arms.

**A/N: **The tape-thing over Iceland's eyes is this medical eye patch. My cousin had to wear one when she was little because of a 'lazy eye'. It's when your eye muscles are weak or something. Don't ask. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Ever. I hope you enjoyed chapter _Deux. _(That is two in French, is it not?)


End file.
